


out of the box

by kidotix



Series: this is not the scout camping trip we signed up for [3]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, One Shot, pacing is kinda wacky but whatever it was late, this series in vaguely au-ish so, wes ended up being in a box but not behind the door
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kidotix/pseuds/kidotix
Summary: Wes is rescued by a brave and dashing hero with awful pronunciation.





	out of the box

Wes's brows furrowed, face tickled by the grass and body aching like it hadn't in years. He didn't want to wake himself up from his rare, restful sleep.

He dreamed that the man who had found him had come back and saved him. He was the first person Wes had seen since he was pulled into this world, and certainly since he was boxed away. Short, with wild hair and a long beard covering determined features, but the guards killed him. No one would risk that much danger twice. Wes would have to wake up eventually and face reality: an eternity in his prison, surrounded by cold stone and statues of...

But there wasn't stone underneath him, was there? Wes was lying down on grass- actually lying down, for once, not pressed into a ball to fit inside his box. Wes scrambled up to his feet, rubbing furiously at his eyes and looking around.

Wes knew this place- it was a big field of flowers and honeybees that he had been able to just see from his box. Sure enough, the stone prison wasn't far away- even empty, he couldn't help but shiver looking at it.

And there was the man, lying next to him peaceful as could be. His beard was gone, and his face relaxed- his very striking face. Wes's face heated up under his facepaint, and he glanced away, unsure of what to do next.

He had an entire world at his fingertips. He'd cursed it when he arrived, but now... he could go anywhere. Do anything. He wasn't alone. Wes took a careful step forward, slowly walking around his hero in a full, wide circle, heart racing with excitement. He tried speeding up and promptly tripped over his own tangled legs, falling back into the grass hard. Undeterred, he pushed himself up to his knees and scooted over to his rescuer, shaking his shoulder with wide eyes.

It took a few moments to rouse him, but eventually the smaller man sat up, blinking heavily before his attention settled on Wes. He seemed confused for a moment, before recognition hit him and he gave the mime a small smile that sent his heart racing all over again. "You're alright- oh!" Wes had quickly bolted forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his savior and nearly bowling the both of them over with the force of his enthusiasm. He got a baffled pat on the back for his efforts. "Uh- you're welcome?"

Wes smiled a little, giving the man a quick peck as additional thanks before pulling away. His eyes had gone wide, a faint black mark left on his cheek and a deep red flush covering his cheeks. His mind caught up with his several seconds later, and he cleared his throat, covering his cheek with one hand. "Well," the man began, voice tilted oddly, before clearing his throat and trying again. "Well. My name is Wilson P. Higgsbury- I'm a scientist. I'm afraid I never caught yours?"

Wes's face fell slightly, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth while he considered. He quickly drew his fingers across his lips to seal them shut, before covering his throat with his hands and shaking his head sadly.

Wilson nodded in consideration, tilting his head and squinting thoughtfully. "Right- you're a mime, aren't you? Hold on just a moment, then." Wilson shrugged off his backpack, rummaging through it thoughtfully before glancing up at Wes. "Well, I have a stick. It's far from ideal, of course..." Wilson sighed, passing the broken branch to the mime, who smiled gratefully regardless.

It took some effort to carve through the ground with it, and Wilson asked him questions as he wrote. "Were you in there for long? Maxwell locked you up there, didn't he?" Wes nodded. "Why would he do that? He seems to have some kind of plan bringing us all here, and you're the only one I've met in such a situation..." Wes shrugged, before pausing and looking up at Wilson curiously. Had he met more people than just Wes? How many were there?

Seemingly oblivious, Wilson tilted his head, leaning forward to try and read Wes's mostly-complete carving. The mime quickly cut out the last piece of his name, before setting down the twig he was using to make it clear he was done.

"...Weese?" Wilson attempted before he glanced back at Wes, who couldn't stop himself from cringing slightly at Wilson's pronunciation. The mime dragged up a smile, pinching his fingers just away from touching. "Not quite?" Wilson frowned, glancing back at his carving. "Wes?" Wilson brightened at Wes's much more cheerful expression, pleased with his success.

Wilson put the stick back in his bag, throwing it over his shoulders and pushing himself finally to his feet. "Well, Wes, I'd love to ask you more, but I suppose we'd have better luck talking when we reach camp. I'm sure we can convince Wickerbottom to part with some supplies when she hears of your ailment."

Wes pulled himself back up, wide-eyed, while Wilson continued. "I was on my way back initially, when I noticed you- we shouldn't be more than a few days off. Shall we?" Wilson smiled slightly, waving Wes along as he set off. Wes quickly followed, all but beaming, and loosely linked his arm with Wilson's. The scientist, still sporting lipstick on his cheek, was kind enough to not comment.

**Author's Note:**

> Written 11/28/17


End file.
